Why are you crying, Cissy?
by MoonDriver
Summary: September 1996: The Malfoys have fallen into disgrace. Lucius has been sent to Azkaban prison and Draco's life is in terrible danger... How will Narcissa cope? Warning: Contains Blackcest.


Narcissa should have known better than to let Bellatrix anywhere near her. Now, while she wanted nothing more than to shed the bitter tears she had held back all day long, she couldn't even grant herself the luxury of doing so alone. Lucius had been gone for nearly two and a half months already and every week that had gone by had seemed to bring along its fair share of horrors.

It had all begun with that disastrous expedition at the Ministry of Magic. Right afterwards, the Dark Lord had set on venting his frustration on the one victim he had to hand- namely, the only Death Eater he had bothered to rescue. Bellatrix had paid her freedom at his wand, at a dire price. Narcissa and Draco had been coerced into watching, helpless, listening to her agonizing screams as the man she called her savior had punished her for every mistakes his followers had made that night.

A few days later, after an expedited trial, Lucius had been sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban. At the time, Narcissa had believed that they had hit rock bottom. In the eyes of the world, the Malfoys, fallen from grace, were nothing. Unfortunately, she had been wrong. The worst was yet to come.

Just like he had robbed her of her husband, the Dark Lord had taken her only son away. The moment his eyes had landed on her child, she had understood what this was about- revenge, and there had been nothing to do to preserve the pieces of her torn family.

She had spent all summer dreading September and all of its sinister implications- Burdened as Draco already was with the weight of his impossible mission, he would have to stand alone in a place where their enemies reigned supreme. He would be far away from her, with no one to trust, in greater danger than ever.

The prospect was driving Narcissa to the brink of insanity, keeping her awake at night, preventing her from eating. When she could no longer bear sitting back and doing nothing, when she had been on the verge of breaking point, she had resolved to go to Spinner's End, to a man she hoped she could trust. Out of their clandestine meeting was born the first glimmer of hope.

Still, she hadn't stopped there. Non-content with almost committing high treason, she had further defied the Dark Lord's orders by enrolling the help of the only person she had left. Bellatrix, inscrutable, ever unpredictable, had let herself be swayed by her pleas and Draco's Occlumency lessons had begun, pacing the life of the household and keeping Narcissa's mind in check. It wasn't much, but she had done everything in her power to protect him.

Obviously, it hadn't kept the start of the school year from barging in on them much too soon and Draco wasn't ready to face any of it yet. From the bottom of her heart, Narcissa knew that he would never be prepared enough. She had bid him goodbye on platform nine and three-quarters that morning and for the ghost of a moment, she had seen his lower lip tremble. Instantly, for the sake of what they called decency, she had looked away from this blatant display of vulnerability. In truth, it was all she could do not to wrap her arms around her son and never let him go. Eventually, Draco had departed and she had been left alone, with grief and anxiety as her companions. A miserable life lied ahead of her, with nothing but an empty, deserted house to tend to.

However, like in the past, there existed a cure for the loneliness that plagued her, and its name was Bellatrix. In that moment, Narcissa had nothing left, nothing but her deranged sister. That was probably why she had managed nothing but a half-hearted protest when the older woman had joined her upstairs and into her room. _Don't, Bella. _That was surely why she had let her crawl into bed with her, why she hadn't shrunk back when she had edged closer and slid an arm around her waist. A gesture that told its own tale. Narcissa would have it deemed innocent, even sisterly, hadn't it been, well, her and Bellatrix. They may feign normality all they want, in the end, it always came down to _that_…

They lay together, Narcissa facing away and toward the wall, her sister shamelessly occupying the place that was rightfully Lucius'. Narcissa felt her breathing on her nape, her breasts pressed against her back as her chest lightly heaved with each intake of air. Bellatrix's body was wrapped around hers, in an embrace that shouldn't have felt so good.

They remained like that for several minutes, Narcissa fearing and anticipating what would come next. She waited, counting the beats of her own heart until she finally lost track of time. Everything was quiet, the only noise disrupting the silence from their simultaneous breathing. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, it happened.

Bellatrix's hand trailed over Narcissa's body, down her stomach, along her thigh and past the insignificant barrier of her nightgown. Narcissa tensed but didn't struggle, nor did she give the slightest hint of movement. It was easier for her to pretend nothing was happening, easier to pretend for the time being that she wasn't actually taking pleasure in indulging her sister's twisted idea of love. Bellatrix rubbed at the space between her legs, drawing slow patterns on the fabric that still covered her. She didn't let out a sound the whole time, even when Bellatrix's fingers suddenly slipped into the confines of her panties, even when her body betrayed how much she really wanted all of this. Instead, Narcissa bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, arching against the hand that soiled her, until she sank into welcome oblivion, dragging all concerns in her wake. She rolled over and locked lips with Bellatrix, actually feeling some sort of happiness, for the first time in months. Then, she thought of Lucius, then, she remembered about her Draco.

"Why are you crying, Cissy?"


End file.
